


Not Just Your Housekeeper

by ubertrash



Category: Sherlock (TV)
Genre: Hospitals, Mentions of past abuse
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-04-29
Updated: 2017-04-29
Packaged: 2018-10-25 13:07:42
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 950
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10764888
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ubertrash/pseuds/ubertrash
Summary: Mrs. Hudson is there to help deal with Sherlock's anxiety on a trip to the doctor's office.





	Not Just Your Housekeeper

**Author's Note:**

> Super quick and short; just wanted to explore Mrs. Hudson and Sherlock's relationship a little (with a cheeky bit of johnlock bc whatever).

John had popped in that morning before he went to work, while she was clearing up from breakfast.  

“Mrs. Hudson?” he said, poking his head through the door. “Sorry, can’t stay long. It’s just that-” he dropped his voice to a whisper, “Sherlock’s got a doctor’s appointment this afternoon, could you just…remind him, make sure he actually goes out?”

“Oh, yes, of course dear. I’ll see to him”. She gave him a wink, and he said a quick ‘Thank you’ before hurrying out the door. 

—–

Mrs. Hudson busied herself with chores for about an hour, before surreptitiously slipping upstairs.

She couldn’t hear Sherlock shuffling around, nor any violin, or clinking chemical flasks, so she assumed he was still in bed. 

She steps into the flat, where, laid out neat and obvious on the kitchen surface, right in front of the kettle where Sherlock would surely see it, was a letter from the hospital.

_Mr. S Holmes, at 1:30 pm, with Dr. Davies._

Of course, Sherlock chose that moment to rip open his bedroom door, making her jump. He stalked over to his chair, wrapped in his sheet, and plonked himself down with huff.

“Morning”. 

Mrs. Hudson tutted. “Good morning to you, too, young man.” A pause. “What’s this doctor’s appointment then?”

“Tea would be lovely” he said, now scrolling through his phone. 

She made a disapproving noise. “Well, how about you get dressed and I’ll put the kettle on. It’s already 11 O’clock, you don’t want to be late.”

Sherlock made his own non-comittal sound. “I’m not going” he said, still looking at his phone.

“You most certainly are, young man! What’s it for anyway?”

He shot her a look. “Everything. Blood tests, MRI, skin samples. It’s Mycroft’s idea - get it all over and done with - very dull. I’m not going.”

She’s standing behind John’s chair now, arms crossed. “Sherlock,” she drawls, in that familiar, concerned tone, “This is important. You never do look after yourself properly. What’s a few hours if it means you stay fit and healthy?”

He makes a put-upon face and slouches lower in his chair. “It means an insufferable amount of dealing with idiots. I can’t stand hospitals, doctors - it’s so tedious.”

“John’s a doctor, dear. You don’t seem to mind him.”

Sherlock pouts. “John’s not like other doctors” he says lamely.

“Sherlock” Mrs. Hudson says, coming to stand in front of him. “Is that really why you don’t want to go - because of the doctors?”

“Obviously!” he snaps, “Why else!”. He burrows further down into the sheet, curling up in his chair, turning his body away from her.

She sits down in John’s chair now, sympathetic eyes settling on Sherlock’s tensed back.

“Would you like me to come with you?” she asks gently.

When no answer comes, she gets up, and pats Sherlock’s thigh.

“I’ll make tea, then you get dressed, and we’ll catch a cab at 1, hm?”

He twists his torso to look at her from under his lashes. “Have you got biscuits?” he asks. 

She smiles. “Yes dear”

He pouts again, but eventually says, “Okay”.

—–

Sherlock won’t sit still. He’s bouncing his leg, fingers twitching, occasionally biting his nails. The collar of his coat is pulled right up to his ears, and he’s looking nervously around the waiting area; Mrs. Hudson can tell that his brain is working at a million miles an hour.

She reaches over and pats his leg, turning her hand up where it rests on Sherlock’s thigh.

“C’m’ere” she says, nudging him, and after a moment’s hesitation Sherlock reaches down and takes her hand. 

She closes her other hand around his.

“You’ll be ok, dear. Just you see.”

He makes a disgruntled noise, but seems to settle back into his chair a little.

She doesn’t actually go in to the doctor’s office with him, but between the quite frankly alarming number of appointments, she sits with him, chatting and doing her best to reassure him.

“What about this one, then?” she asks, pointing discreetly at a woman sat across the room. 

Sherlock rattles off a list of deductions, and Mrs. Hudson asks him to explain each one, and then points to another person, until he’s called in to another appointment.

Even Mrs. Hudson will admit that the whole thing takes a treacherously long amount of time, but eventually the doctor bids them goodbye, with assurances that Sherlock seems physically fit, and that the lab results will be back soon, and they can discuss those over the phone, no need for another appointment (Sherlock breathes a literal sigh of relief at this).

He also hands Sherlock a prescription, “to help with those scars”, and no matter how much Mrs. Hudson wants to pry, she stays silent, trying not to let herself think of the worst-case explanations. 

On the way home they stop at a nice little tea room; they order a pot of tea and scones between them, and Sherlock has a fancy mille-feuille pastry too, because, as he says, he more than deserves it.

—–

Mrs. Hudson is watching her soaps when John finally comes through the front door. She wonders if he’ll come to see her, but she hears him head straight up the stairs. She mutes the TV, letting herself be nosy:

_Hey, I’m back (a kiss) How did you get on today?_

_Fine._

_Yeah?_

_Yes._

_Not as bad as you thought then?_

_Ugh. No! We were there for hours, it was awful._

_We?_

_Mrs. Hudson._

_Ah. Right. Well._

_Hm._

_We should invite her up tomorrow, to say thank you. Maybe I’ll make dinner._

_Mm. Maybe. (another kiss ) Now let me tell you about this triple homicide -_

Mrs. Hudson goes back to her soaps.

 

 


End file.
